by Adam Rushing
* * *
Around one a.m. local time, Jude and Eric stepped off the train and onto the arrival platform of the Stazione di Roma Termini, the final station on this leg of the railway, just east of the heart of Rome. Eric remained alert for any sign of suspicious activity, as he led Jude past the shops to the north entrance onto the Via Marsala. A glut of hotels operated in the surrounding blocks to capture the influx of daily arrivals to the Eternal City, so it would be relatively easy to find a place to stay without the worry of being spotted. The cash Eric had extracted from the ATM in Geneva would doubly ensure their anonymity.
The two men walked out of the large, enclosed station under the cover of darkness. Jude, in a fervor fueled by grief and panic, had argued the merits of hurrying straight to the Holy See to inform the Vicar of what had happened, but Eric intervened.
“We don’t know when your friend Antonio was taken over by this Azazel character. If it was within the Vatican, then you can be damn sure there will be more. What better way to destroy a nuisance than from within? The most dangerous thing you can do right now is let your guard down, and we don’t need to lose one of the few people still alive who knows what happened back there.”
“You’re right,” Jude finally relented. “I’ll call ahead, once we find a place to lay low for a bit.”
They walked a few blocks north of the station before deciding on a small establishment nestled in the urban landscape named Il Duce, or the Duke. The inn looked as if time had left it behind. The worn carpet and dusty chandelier in the front lobby suggested it might have once been worthy of its lofty name, but now it was nothing more than a budget retreat. It looked as if it were less likely to welcome people with the social stature of its namesake and more likely be the temporary solace of drug runners and johns looking to score with the prostitutes outside. The tired clerk at the counter spoke little English, but the wad of cash Eric shoved at him translated into a mutual understanding.
Jude tossed and turned restlessly. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Emily’s dull lifeless eyes or imagined Gallo’s face twisted in demonic glee by the creature inside him, smiling over the chaos he had wrought. The sun eventually began to rise, and he finally abandoned his poor attempt at slumber. He quietly stood up to use the bathroom.
“Couldn’t sleep either, huh?” Eric asked from his bed.
“I don’t know if I’ll sleep again for a long time,” admitted Jude sadly. “Yesterday was… overwhelming...”
“The pain may fade with time,” Eric said with empathy. “It never really goes away, though. I did two tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. I saw friends blown to pieces in front of me by suicide bombers, and innocent civilians executed just because they showed compassion to a wounded soldier. Experiences like those take something from you. They leave something hollow behind that can never be filled back up. Eventually you have to accept it as a part of who you are, or it will swallow you whole.”
Jude suddenly realized that he wasn’t the only person suffering from recent loss. “Eric… I’m sorry about your friend. He seemed like a great guy. He didn’t deserve what happened to him. None of them did.”
Eric looked up at Jude. “You mentioned a name back in Geneva. Was it something that began with an A?”
“Azazel,” offered Jude. “He’s believed to have first been identified in the non-canonical Christian book of Enoch. He taught mankind the art of warfare, metallurgy, and deception. He is traditionally credited for being one of the leaders of the angels that came down to live with men.”
“In other words,” said Eric. “He’s one bad dude.”
Jude nodded grimly, “Yeah. I’m pretty sure he was the mastermind behind the attack on the conference, as well.”
Eric looked confused. “I thought you were scanning everyone there, though.”
“He was part of the committee that organized the damn thing! We didn’t think he’d need scanning,” Jude hung his head. “I just… I should have kept a better eye on him. He was pretty torn up after finding out the truth about Emily. He was… is... a devout man. He must have been tricked into letting Azazel in.”
Eric waved his hand angrily. “What difference does it make whether he was possessed willingly or not? People are dead because of it.”
Jude replied indignantly, “It makes a difference whether we can save him or not! You can’t drive out something out if the person doesn’t want it out.”
Eric conceded Jude’s point and stared out the window toward the glittering cityscape. “If we get the chance, we will do all we can. Right now, I’m more worried about what the general reaction is to what happened yesterday, especially since that video has probably been seen by just about everyone in the world by now.”
Jude stepped forward to stare at the fusion of ancient and modern architecture sprawling out into the horizon. He held his hands behind his head, as he thought out a plan. “I’d rather not find out just yet. I know it won’t be good. That was the Nephilim’s plan; I’m sure of it. It was naive to try to gather so many important people in one place and not expect retaliation, but what else could we do? We aren’t just fighting for our lives here, Eric. We are fighting for the very essence of what it means to be human. You’re a smart guy. You know just as well as I do that most of our species won’t have the strength of will to resist any type of invasion like that, not the way things are right now.”
Eric whistled and rubbed his hand through his hair, “You know, this is the first time I’ve really thought about what all this means. I’m with you for as long as I can be useful. I won’t let Brad and Emily die in vain.”
“Thanks man. I really mean it,” Jude said sincerely, as he sat back down on the bed. “I’m going to try to get some more rest before I feel comfortable calling the Vicar. What time is breakfast?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jude and Eric ventured downstairs at about nine, local time, for the hotel’s continental breakfast. After a quick meal of cold cuts and freshly baked bread, Jude walked back up to the room, leaving Eric behind to sip coffee and watch the foot traffic on the sidewalk. He sat down on the bed next to the telephone, took out his wallet, and pulled out the scrap of paper the Vicar had given Emily when they had first met so many months ago.
He nervously punched in the number scrawled on the piece of paper and waited for it to ring. It rang five or six times before Jude began to grow impatient. He was on the verge of hanging up and trying again later, when he heard the click of a receiver being picked up.
“Pronto? Chi parla?” asked the familiar voice of the Vicar in the ubiquitous Italian telephone greeting.
“Bongiorno, your Eminence,” greeted Jude. “It’s Jude.”
He could hear the old cardinal suck in a sharp breath. “Please hold, Father,” he announced aloud.
Jude heard some background movement and the muffled voice of the Vicar giving directions to others in the room with him, before returning to the phone.
“My apologies, Signore, I needed to ensure we had complete privacy. Things have been… difficult these past twenty-four hours.”
“I understand,” Jude answered with sympathy. “I need to speak with you about what happened. Is it possible to meet later today?”
Vicar gave a pregnant pause before speaking again. His hesitation confirmed Jude’s misgivings. “Jude, you can’t come back to the Vatican. You shouldn’t even be in Europe right now. Interpol is looking for you in connection to Geneva.”
Jude was dumbfounded. “What are you talking about? I barely made it out alive! Why would they think I had anything to do with it?”
The Vicar responded. “The authorities contacted us about it yesterday. They said you and an accomplice named Eric Strauss orchestrated the attack, used a group of survivors as cover to escape the building, and then murdered them all before fleeing the country.”
“What?” Jude exclaimed in disbelief. “You know that’s not true. It must be Antonio. You have to believe me! Inanna told me before she and
Emily died that he had been possessed!”
“Father Gallo has succumbed to the Nephilim?” Cardinal Savelli responded with dismay. “Mio Dio! Even our own are not safe… We can do little to address it at the moment, though. You are an international person of interest, and I doubt you will be receiving a fair trial, if one at all, if you are caught. The public is looking for someone to hang, not for justice. I have to prepare for His Holiness’ funeral and coordinate a new papal vote.”
“Funeral? You mean the pope is dead?” Jude felt the growing knot in his stomach tighten even further. The Catholic Church in disarray meant at least one sixth of the world’s population might be in danger of a vulnerable mental state.
“He died a few hours ago,” Savelli informed him. “He survived the blast and managed to make it out with the remainder of his security detail, but the trauma was too great. The entire Catholic world is in an uproar right now.”
“What do I do?” asked Jude. The shock of the situation made his voice seem a thousand miles away “Where can I go?”
The Cardinal offered a solution, “I like to maintain my own private resources in case of emergencies like this. I know of a nice couple just outside the city, who will be happy to hide you and get you off the Continent. It’s the best I can do on such short notice.”
“Thank you, Your Eminence,” Jude said with appreciation, although he was still trying to grasp the direness of the situation.
“I am sorry. I cannot talk further,” the temporary head of the Church apologized, “It must not be known that we conversed. I will be sure to have my contacts meet with you in a few hours. Go to the central clearing at the Villa Ada around nineteen hundred and wear an Italia football jersey. You will be approached by a couple who will comment on it and ask if you saw Pirlo play last weekend. Tell them you will only care about Pirlo when he plays for Roma. This will be your password. Follow their instructions from there. I wish I could do more for you, Jude.”
“Saving my life is more than enough, Your Eminence,” Jude responded. “Please, be wary of Antonio if he comes back to the Vatican. He is incredibly dangerous.”
“Thank you for the warning, my son,” the old priest thanked him with sincerity. “Peace be with you.”
“And also with you,” Jude replied, before the line went dead. He returned the phone back to its base and stared blankly at the wall, reflecting on the deviousness of Azazel’s plan. They had thwarted his plan to kill them all, so he had implicated them instead. Europe was no longer safe for him or Eric.
Eric ran into the room shortly thereafter and slammed the door behind him. He stopped in the entryway when he noticed Jude’s anxiousness. “Hey, man…” he began slowly. “I don’t speak much Italian, but suppose our photos aren’t all over the news because the authorities are concerned about our well-being. Did you speak with the Vicar? What are our options?”
Jude sighed and fell back on the bed with his arms spread wide. He gave Eric a quick summary of what the Vicar said. “Antonio seems to have told the Genevese police that we executed the raid on the conference center, so the Vatican has officially broken ties with us.” He paused to allow Eric to finish cursing. “Savelli offered us an out, though. It seems we’re going to be smuggled out of the city tonight, so get your cloak and dagger ready.”
“Good,” Eric said. “We can’t stay here much longer. Someone is bound to identify us.” The first thing we need to do is get you that shirt. Stay here, and I’ll go get it for you. I have some other shopping to do, too.”
Jude began to protest the idea of secluding himself to the hotel room, but Eric shushed him with a firm finality. “Listen, they are looking for two people right now, so it’s safer if I go out alone. I’m experienced at being able to keep a low profile, so it only makes sense I do it. I can pose as a German tourist if I need to. The quickest way to draw attention right now is to walk around speaking American English. Any scrutiny could lead to recognition.”
“I submit,” surrendered Jude graciously. “Just be careful out there, ok? I’m the whole reason you’re in this mess to begin with.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” assured Eric. “Those bastard angels or ETs or whatever they are are the reason I’m here, not you.” He pulled out a blue scarf he had bought in Geneva and wrapped it around the lower half of his face. “Do you have anything to hide or alter your facial features? If we are being hunted, I guarantee every camera feed in the city will be subject to a facial recognition scan in search of us. We need every advantage we can make for ourselves.”
Jude shook his head in the negative.
“Ok then,” remarked Eric. “I should be back in thirty minutes to an hour. If I’m any longer than that, assume I’m caught and you’re on your own.” He swiftly opened the door and stepped out. “See you in a bit.” His footsteps faded back down the hallway, and once again Jude was alone.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jude awoke from a troubled nap when Eric slammed the door. He walked in with a large shopping bag filled with miscellaneous unknown items. His companion dropped the bag onto the small hotel dresser and turned toward him. Eric’s face was pale from terror, his brow furrowed from worry and intense thought.
“How do things look out there?” Jude asked.
“Not good,” answered Eric as he leaned back on the edge of the desk. “It’s a madhouse out there, and our faces are plastered all over the television. The Vicar wasn’t kidding, Europe is too hot for us right now. Luckily, I have a few tricks to keep us incognito.”
He reached into the bag and began pulling out an assortment of different products. Among them, Jude noted hair clippers, instant tanning spray, and hair dye. He picked up the clippers and began examining the different attachments, while Eric continued to lay out his supplies.
Eric continued, “Normal protocol for an all-points search like the one we are under is to set up a massive surveillance net for suspects. These usually include alerts whenever a suspect uses a personal phone or credit card that can identify his or her location. The good thing is we rid ourselves of all that back in Geneva, although I was more worried about being hunted by Nephilim than I was by the government. The next step is to monitor all available footage to track the suspect’s movement. No matter how smooth our escape was, you can bet your ass that Interpol will find video evidence that we left by train. I wouldn’t be surprised if they already know we are in Rome.”
“Our biggest threat right now is being recognized by someone while we are travelling, so I dropped by a few local stores and fetched some supplies to alter our appearance. Ever wondered what you would look like as a blond?” Eric handed Jude a box of dye and the clippers. “Be creative. The further you look from your normal self, the more you’ll blend in.”
Jude sadly walked to the bathroom. People wouldn’t necessarily say he was vain, but he was particular about his hair. He had found a cut and style he liked and had stuck with it since his college days. Even in the face of mortal danger, he hesitated at remaking himself. The thought was fleeting, however, and he raised the shears to his head.
When he emerged from the bathroom, Jude’s medium length, dark brown hair was now a short, platinum blond faux hawk. With the application of the fake tanning oil, he looked as if he belonged more on the beaches of the Mediterranean than he did in a library. Eric blackened his sandy hair and shaved his beard to complete his disguise. Both men donned street-smart jeans and jackets, while Jude made sure to wear the requisite Italia shirt. They gathered the remaining trash and clothing into a garbage bag to toss into the garbage chute in the hallway.
Jude mused at his new look in the hallway mirror, as they left the room. “I don’t even think my own mother would recognize me now.”
Eric shot him a lopsided grin. “Too bad we aren’t trying to fool your mother. It would probably be easier. Now, let’s get out of here. We’ve lingered long enough. It’s anyone guess as to how long it will be before they track us down.”
The two esc
aped into the hall and rode the elevator down to the lobby. The desk clerk began yelling something at them in Italian, but Eric urgently shoved Jude forward past him and into the crowded streets. Jude could hear the man running out of the hotel after them, but they were already well hidden by the throng of tourists.
They slowed down a bit, once they were sure they weren’t being followed. Neither man was sure of the location of the Villa Ada. Jude could only remember it was a large park somewhere in Rome. He stopped at a nearby sidewalk souvenir kiosk to purchase a map of Rome and fumbled to unfold it. He had never been adept at the intricacies of map folding.
He scanned the abstract conglomeration of colored shapes and lines peppered with text in search of his destination. His gaze landed on a large green ovoid nested close to the Tiber River bearing the park’s name. He stabbed his finger onto the paper. “There it is,” he directed. “We need to go north from here, until we hit the Via Salaria. The park will be just on the other side.”
The two walked up the avenue, trying to blend in with the aimless tourists in an effort to blend into the bustling mid-day crowd. Ten minutes later, they approached an open-air café with a television set to a local news station. Just as Eric had told him earlier, the coverage kept pulling back to the attack and the search for any persons of interest – the foremost of whom indeed appeared to be him and Eric. Both of them shuffled closer to the small crowd of patrons and on-lookers to collect any new information they could. Jude’s confidence in their disguises grew, as they stood inches away from the bystanders without being noticed, even though their pictures were being broadcast only a few feet away.
Eric gave Jude a quick tap on the shoulder and signaled him to listen. It was then, he heard the first siren. The faint sound quickly grew louder, and a blue and white Alfa Romeo with Polizia painted along the side flew by with lights flashing. After it had passed, Jude realized he had been holding his breath. He released it silently and tried to calm his nerves. Suddenly, his disguise seemed paper-thin. Now that he was paying attention, he heard more sirens off in the distance. It sounded as if the entire Roman police force was hot on a lead, and he was pretty sure that lead was them.
